Good To Love
by winterschildren
Summary: Taking place after the war with Negan, a young woman finds comfort in the man who saved her life. (There are no spoilers, but rated T for sexual situations)
1. Part One

**I would first like to say how good it feels to actually be able to write something. It's been, what? A year since my last update? And considering I churned this out in two days, means I haven't lost my touch. But I have lost interest in many of my muses. That's the way it goes, though.**

 **Also, I would like to note that I _know_ Jesus is gay. I know that he is gay in the comics, and I know that he will most definitely be gay in the television show. But guess what? I don't care! Paul Monroe is my favorite character in the comic books, and I don't write him straight because I'm homophobic, I write him straight because I want to. I don't want to hear any complaints, unless you honestly think my writing completely sucks. **

* * *

The community was quiet behind its massive walls; a silence that was almost eerily uncomfortable. There were no sounds of the dead, no birds chirping in the surrounding trees. Only the rustle of the soft breeze passing through, and a symphony of crickets as the town slept peacefully.

This had always been her favorite time of day; a few hours before the sun would begin to make an appearance to the world. The stars were still shining, and a crescent moon was lingering in the sky like a smile without eyes. She took a moment to appreciate the simple fact that she was still alive, something that she never took for granted.

Alexandria was still new to her eyes, it was still hard for her to sleep peacefully in her new home. The adjustment had been challenging, and she usually took to the community's streets to settle her uneasy mind. It gave her time to think, to realize that she was safe; that this was reality. Sometimes she felt as if it would be ripped from her in an instant, and she would wake up from this dream. But as her feet walked the town's paved streets, it made it that much more permanent.

The playground was her halfway point. She would usually pass by- the empty swings creaking as the breeze lightly pushed them- and continue over to Baggerly Street. But this morning was different. This morning the swings weren't empty. A smile formed on her lips as she saw the occupant, slowly swinging back and forth, his feet not leaving the ground.

"I had a dream that the war wasn't over." He spoke softly. His eyes were fixed on the loose mulch underneath his feet. "There was no one left- just me, and a voice in the back of my head that said it was my fault. Everyone was dead; The Hilltop, Alexandria, you."

Her heart hurt for him; the man who deserved only the best that life could offer. She stood in front of him, the slow swing coming to a stop, and gently placed her index finger under his bearded chin. "The war _is_ over, Paul." She could see his eyes soften at the use of his given name. In the time that she had known him, she had never said it until now. "We're here, and we're safe, and it's real."

"Where is your jacket?" He asked, changing the subject; his eyes canvased her exposed skin. "Aren't you cold?"

She turned her back to him and shook her head. "I'll be okay."

That wasn't good enough for him, and a part of her hoped it. Seconds later, she felt warm leather cover her bare shoulders. His coat smelled like evergreen and comfort. When she turned to look at him, he was rolling down his sleeves. Something so innocent, but made her heart flutter like a hummingbird's wings.

"May I accompany you on the walk back?" He asked her. His ocean blue eyes swirled in the moonlight.

A smile adorned her lips. "Jesus, we live in the same house."

Every time their arms accidentally touched she felt a shiver over her entire body. She longed to be closer, she had ever since he brought her back with him that night. The feeling only grew with each day that passed. So much so, that it became more of a curse than a blessing to live in the same house. After all, he was Jesus, and she was just complicated.

"Thank you," she said as he held the door open for her.

He clicked the lock behind them, despite the community being completely safe. He said one night to her, 'safe is an illusion in this world, but I'll do everything I can to make sure you feel like you are'. She smiled at the memory as she hung his trench coat on the hanger.

"What?" He asked, pulling off his boots.

"Just the fact that you lock the door. Rick doesn't even lock his door." She laughed.

He frowned, "I told you-"

"I know," her laugh didn't last long when she saw that ever-permanent serious look plague his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed." Now she felt disappointed with herself, like she had hurt his feelings, which is something she would never dream of doing.

"You don't need to apologize," he reassured her. "Goodnight."

She gave him a smile before he disappeared up the stairs and down the hall. Then she cursed herself for being so stupid, and ruining every chance she could possibly get. After fixing herself a glass of water, she followed up the stairs, only retreating down the opposite end of the hall.

Sleep would continue to avoid her, though. After thirty minutes, after an hour. She tossed and turned, searching for the comfortable spot where she could sink off into her dreams. But it never came. Instead she thought of the past, she thought of her life before, and her life after. She thought of Jesus, and she thought of _him._ She threw the covers from her body and slung her feet off the edge of the bed. They brought her to the door, and when she opened it, she was faced with his at the end of the hall.

After an additional twenty or so minutes of pacing, she finally gathered the courage to knock. "It's open," she heard from the other side. A sigh of relief escaped her lips knowing that he was still awake. And then panic that maybe she was being too bold.

"Paul," she creaked his door open slowly. He was stretched out on his bed, a book in his hands. "This might seem like a crazy request, but could I possibly sleep with you? I can't sleep. At all. I mean, it's okay if you say no, I'll just go somewhere else." Her voice trailed off after she realized she was talking too much.

A smile settled on his lips. "Please," he replied softly with a motion to the empty side of his bed. She was shocked that he would say yes, but she played it off smoothly as she slipped underneath his warm comforter. "How long did you practice asking that in the hallway?" He joked.

"Practice?" She asked slyly. "I don't need to practice."

His smirk was hidden from her, as her head rested on his chest. A tired 'thank you' escaped her lips moments before she dozed off, having found the comfort that she was searching for.

* * *

 **Part one of two, down.**

 **The musical inspiration for this chapter is:**

 **1\. Angel by Koda**

 **Like and review if you enjoyed it! Thanks.**


	2. Part Two

**Part two of two! Enjoy the fluff!**

* * *

Sleeping next to her was something that he had wanted to feel ever since the first night. He never asked her, out of respect, and fear that she wouldn't want him. Every night she would wake, and every night she would leave, and he would hope that she would come to him. But she didn't.

Until this night.

It was afternoon now, and he was wide awake. He stayed with her, un-moving. She slept facing away from him, and he drew patterns in the freckles on her shoulders. There were thousands of them, like there were stars. He wanted to hold her again like he had earlier in the night, but her sleeping face was too peaceful to disturb.

She, having felt the space between them, pushed herself against him. This gave him the option to drape his arm around her frame, something he didn't need to think twice about. A content sigh escaped her lips, and he smiled, placing a light kiss on her exposed shoulder. This was everything he had ever wanted, and was so happy that this was happening with her.

"What time is it?" She asked, sleep still laced in her voice.

"Afternoon." He replied with the softest tone. His arms wrapped around her a little tighter. "I'd say it's about one. But none of that matters."

She turned to face him, her tank top moving up her midriff, erasing the layer of clothing between his hand and the bare skin of her stomach. And that was when he felt it. His eyes flickered to the spot, just above her hip bones, at the ridged scar. She noticed immediately, and pulled her tank top down. A look of embarrassment plagued her features.

He didn't even need to ask what it was. He had seen that mark before on the faces of many men. "Don't," he whispered. His back straightened as he uncrossed her arms from her chest. She didn't try to stop him, she knew she was safe with him. She knew that if there was anyone she could still trust in this world, he was it.

The feeling of his fingertips grazing her skin was like a wildfire. The hair on the back of her neck began to rise, and goosebumps formed on her arms. She was scared at the intimacy, something she had never had the chance to feel before. And she would have never expected it to come from this man, _the_ man, who saved her life. The man from the end of the hall who always went out of his way to make sure she felt secure, and happy, and had everything she needed.

The sight of the burn made his stomach twist. Such a beautiful woman should never be treated in such a way. His fingers lightly smoothed over the creases and ridges. "What did he do to you?"

"It was the second night, after I was found, when he came to me," she started. It wasn't something that she wanted to talk about, but she wanted him to know everything about her. Even the bad parts. "He asked and I said no. He told them not to let me have dinner, and that there were rules that I would learn and eventually follow. Then he came the next night, and he asked again, and I said no. The other wives, they tried to convince me, but I would have rather died."

Jesus lowered his eyes, he didn't want her to see the anger in them.

"The third night, he didn't even ask. He grabbed me by the hair, and pulled me out in front of everyone. When I saw the iron waiting for me, when he picked it up, I begged him to stop. He laughed at me, and he mocked me. He said no. They were all screaming at him to burn my face, but Negan said _'I have a better idea'_. He ripped my shirt off, humiliating me in front of everyone. _'Look at those tits'_ , he said, _'look at that face'_. I could feel the heat coming off of that iron as he got closer and closer."

There were tears streaming down her face now as she recounted the memory.

"He said, _'next time you won't say no'_. And he held the iron against my skin until I couldn't even feel it anymore. He was right, too, which I hate myself for."

Paul shook his head. "You were just trying to stay alive." His thumb wiped away at her cheeks, trying to make her tears disappear. "Please don't hate yourself for what the Devil did to you."

"When you found me, I thought it was a dream." She whispered, choking back more tears. "I thought I had died and gone to heaven, and there was Jesus Christ ready to walk me through the gates. And maybe it's because you saved me that I'm in love with you, but every morning when I wake up, I am terrified that you're not going to be here."

He quieted her, pulling her as close as he could, and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?" His index finger found the bottom of her chin, and he lifted her head so that she could see his eyes. "I will never leave you."

She saw the sincerity in him, even more so with each centimeter he grew closer to her. This was her moment, this was when the fireworks exploded into the sky. The spark between them, that had been there from the very second that they had seen each other, lit a forest fire in his bed. Right there, in the middle of them. And that was all _before_ he kissed her.

When his warm lips enveloped hers, every bit of oxygen left her lungs. She gasped for air and he pulled away, as if to silently ask her if what he was doing was okay, and his questioned was answered when she fiercely kissed him back. His hand behind her neck, fingers twirling around her hair, deepening the kiss as much as he could. Both of them knowing that they needed to make up for lost time.

Every touch sent her nerves through a whirlpool; his thumb on her jawbone, nails dragging down her back, the pressure of his hands on her hips. But his lips did something else entirely. His lips made her see sunsets and stars. The way they moved from her chin to her collarbone, the center of her breasts, to her navel. He stopped for a moment, hovering right above her scar, and then he kissed that too- ever so gently.

"Jesus," she whispered like a prayer. He looked up at her from between her thighs, and she wished she could capture this moment forever. He smiled at her as she bit her bottom lip, and placed butterfly kisses along her inner thigh. His beard tickling her skin, allowing for a giggle to escape her lips. "Come here," she told him, and he obeyed.

She reached for the middle of the back of his shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it to the wooden floor. Marveling at the beauty that he kept hidden away underneath so many layers. The sun dripped through the blinds on the windows, illuminating the sparkling dust in the air. They both laughed as he fumbled to work the clasp of her bra, and how they bumped heads when she reached back to help him. But the moment could have been any more perfect.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He asked her just once more to be completely sure.

"You will always be what I want." She replied, sealing their fate.

It was hours later when she decided to crawl out from under his covers. She slid her shorts back on, and his shirt over her head. And she left him where he slept, giving him one last kiss on his perfect lips. He smiled under her lips, letting her know that he was indeed awake. She whispered to him that she was going to go make coffee, and that when he was ready, she'd be waiting for him. Despite spending most of the day in bed, they still had their jobs to do as Alexandrian citizens.

Downstairs, she could see the members of her community enjoying the beautiful weather. She stepped out on the porch, mug in hand, taking a deep breath of fresh air. This was something she could get used to. Next door, Rick sat on his porch swing with Judith, a knowing smile on his face when he saw her.

"Good morning!" He shouted, knowing full-well it was afternoon.

"Yes it was," she replied as she smiled into her cup.

* * *

 **I'm obsessed. I'm sorry.**

 **Musical inspiration provided by:**

 **1\. I Don't - Koda**

 **2\. Good To Love - FKA twigs**

 **Like and review if you enjoyed. Thanks!**


End file.
